


Confessions

by Eadwine63



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Confessions, Falling In Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, bonus smut chapter, mostly Ezio's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-01 08:05:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10184681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eadwine63/pseuds/Eadwine63
Summary: In which Leonardo is accused of indecency and rape. Again.





	1. In which Leonardo is apprehended for indecency

**Author's Note:**

> This is rated Mature for references to sex and violence, and because the entirety of this story is fluff except for the bonus chapter of somewhat more graphic sex.  
> (you can perfectly read the story without the bonus chapter, should you so desire)

Night is falling over Venice when Ezio makes his way to Leonardo’s workshop. It’s been a long time since their last meeting, his duty as an Assassin and as a man coming in between them more than Ezio would have liked. Yet he believes sacrifice is part of being an Assassin. If all he has to sacrifice is a little bit of time with his favourite artist, he can still take it. Leonardo never chastises him for not checking in longer periods of time, never even seems to mind how easily months or years come between them. Leonardo understands, and that's part of why Ezio loves his friend so. He looks forwards to the smile on the artist’s lips and the sweetness in his embrace. He’s even brought him a gift, an apology of sorts to make up for the time he’s been away. Leonardo might understand, but Ezio still feels the sting of guilt. Or maybe it’s just that he always misses Leonardo’s company more than anything else when he’s away.

When he tries the door to the artist's workshop, he finds it open, but the workshop deserted except for the half-finished paintings and the sketches and the inventions. The ashes in the fireplace are cold. Ezio hesitates but calls out for Leonardo or his assistants anyway, his urge to see his friend unharmed greater than his caution. He goes up the stairs and finds Leonardo’s bedroom as empty as the workshop below. The bed is unmade and Leonardo's clothes are still neatly in a wardrobe, his hat a painful eyecatcher on a hook beside it. Leonardo rarely goes out without it.

Ezio hurries back down, suddenly gripped with panic. Leonardo is gone, and he has no idea what happened, or where to find him. Despite all his training and his experience as an Assassin, Ezio cannot bring himself to look at Leonardo's disappearance calmly. He feels angry and fearful, his throat feels tight and his heart would make a good object of study for the missing artist because it seems to have stopped working. 

Ezio listens in on conversations in the streets, in tabernas, pays courtesans for a sliver of information and finally, he learns that Leonardo has been arrested on account of indecency and worse, rape.

His head spins. The thought makes his anger flare up; it simply cannot be true. His peaceful, selfless, brilliant artist cannot have commited such crimes.

The courtesan tells him where they’re keeping him and that his trial was supposed to be held tonight. He might be too late. If Leonardo is found guilty, which is inevitable as the trial simply serves as a formality, he will be executed at cock-crow.

Ezio rushes through the streets until he feels his lungs burn. The building where the trial is being held looms up before him after far too long, faint in the moonlight. He scales the wall as nimbly and quickly as he can, climbs through a window and follows the echo of voices portraying a farce of justice until he reaches the room where the trial is being held. It's not hard to find the accused, but Ezio has a hard time recognising Leonardo. It's dark inside, the flicker of candlelight hiding the full extent of what he sees and yet it feels like a blow to the stomach. The man who fidgets in the stand looks nothing like the artist he knows. His usually well kempt hair is too long and so dirty and tangled it has lost all of its illustrous golden shine. His soiled clothes are fraying along the edges and ripped in some places. They do nothing to hide the scrawny figure underneath them. Leonardo's hands are restless to the extent Ezio can see them twitch and move irregularly even from his hiding spot on a small platform that looks out over the hall. Everything about the artist screams nervousness and desperation. 

It hurts to see Leonardo - his beautiful, ever-smiling Leonardo - like that and it takes strength to stop the rage inside of him from sweeping in and massacring everyone in the room to save his friend. Ezio has to remind himself it would be an unnecessary risk that could well jeopardize their safety. He reminds himself Leonardo would scold him for taking so many lives – innocent lives. It could be one of the few things Leonardo would hold against him for the rest of their lives. No, he has to wait until it’s over, tail the guards to the cells. 

At least he doesn't have to wait long.

“Since this is your second offence, Messer da Vinci, I have no choice.”

“The charges in Firenze were dropped!” Leonardo pleads desperately, his voice a little higher than Ezio is used to. It breaks him a little to hear him so uncomposed. “And I did not do what you’re accusing me of!”

“Take him away.”

“No!” There was a pause and then a more quiet 'please' that fell from Leonardo's lips.

Leonardo’s plea fell on deaf ears, but to Ezio that last quiet word is shattering, more than a cry could ever have been. Leonardo struggles to stay on his feet as guards drag him away and Ezio hears a sob. Leonardo is frightened. The arnger flares up inside him again, strong and temporarily blinding to his senses. Ezio has always known Leonardo to be brave, maybe braver than Ezio has ever been. His Leonardo risks his life for hI'm and the Order regularly, without asking anything in return, and always with his head held high. This Leonardo is a broken, terrified man and though Ezio does not blame him, it angers him to see his best friend and the rock in his life reduced to such a mess. 

He tails the two guards to Leonardo’s cell, fists balled at his sides as he holds back the desire to strike already, waits until they’ve opened the cell and pushed Leonardo inside. He trips over his own feet and falls to the floor, where one of the guards kicks him. _Cowards,_ Ezio thinks and grits his teeth. 

“Careful, might catch something," the other guard laughs and his partner curses and attempts to clean his boot on the stone floor, as if he's just stepped in horse droppings. Their laughter is cut short when Ezio gladly steps up behind them from the shadows and buries his blades to the hilt in their necks. Blood lands on his sleeves and he feels a sick satisfaction - one he rarely feels when taking a life. His victims fall down almost without a sound, grasping at their throats as if their fingers can still fix the ruined tendons and vocal chords in the moments before the life vanishes from their eyes. Ezio wishes to his slight horror that he would have liked to have given them a slow and painful death, to see them struggle for breath a while longer, to see their fingers grasping uselessly as they slip from the slick skin of their throat. These men don’t deserve any pity or mercy. He takes the keys to Leonardo's cell and lets himelf in when Leonardo doesn't move from his spot on the dirty floor. Although he's sitting up now, his eyes are unfocussed and shine strangely.

He’s crying, Ezio realises.

He falls to one knee in front of Leonardo and wraps his arms around his friend. He smells as bad as he looks, but Ezio holds him tight until Leonardo’s arms come up and hold him in return.

“We have to go. Can you walk?”

When Leonardo nods a little, he all but drags him to his feet. Ezio supports his weight as often as as best he can when he stumbles more than he walks and miraculously, with the help of a smoke bomb, they make it out without too much fuss.

Ezio takes Leonardo in the direction of the brothel, where he knows they’ll be safe and have a room and hot bath. The road there is long and tough. Ezio hates the slow pace, wishing he could see Leonardo safe and out of the public eye in the blink of an eye instead. He thinks of stealing a horse in a fit of desperation, but can't take the risk of going around Venice in such a high-profile manner. They endure, needing to rest too often to Ezio's liking. 

When they finally arrive, he leaves Leonardo in the dark with a heavy heart as he seeks the mistress of the house and ask for a safe passage to the attic room Ezio uses as a safe house from time to time. The brothel is still in full business so they can't just tumble through the front door. Instead, they stumble through a back door as courtesans skillfully steer clients away from their vicinity. He doubts they'll make much out of it and assume they're just two men who had too much to drink in a popular brothel. They are ushered to the attic and as Ezio closes the door behind them, Leonardo falls down on the makeshift bed against the far wall, obviously exhausted from all events and no less from the trip here. He kneels in front of him, takes off his boots for him. Leonardo looks at him and brings a trembling hand to Ezio’s cheek.

“You’re here.”

Ezio leans into the touch, relief flooding him that they’ve made it out safe, that Leonardo is safe now. He will be alright. _Ezio_  will be alright. He takes Leonardo's hand with his own and squeezes comfortingly.

“Of course.”

 


	2. In which Leonardo tells the truth

As Leonardo sleeps, Ezio rides back and ‘convinces’ the judge to drop the charges against his friend. With this house relatively unguarded to Ezio's surprise, it was a task fairly easy to accomplish, although holding back his recurring anger was the hardest part. Ezio realises why he feels so angry - Leonardo means so much to him after all - but the extent of it is still like a punch to his gut. The last time he felt remotely like this were the days after his family had been hanged. Rage and pure grief had blinded his mind, had made him even more reckless than he had already been. Ezio likes to believe he's grown smarter with age, but his friends like to point out the opposite whenever they see fit. Maybe they are not entirely wrong, seeing as the mere thought of Leonardo coming to harm had him hurtling through the streets and willing to torture guards out of retaliation. Yet patience was the first thing his uncle had taught him in Monteriggioni, and Ezio had learned to keep in check.

After he's scared the judge into dropping Leonardo's charges - and into soiling his breeches much to Ezio's satisfaction - he goes to Leonardo’s workshop to get him some fresh clothes, charcoal, and a notebook. When he returns to La Rosa della Virtù, Leonardo is still soundly sleeping and despite feeling bone-tired, Ezio sits on a chair besides the bed and decides to spend most of the early hours watching the older man sleep.

When Ezio wakes, his back and neck muscles hurt from the awkward position he's been in. He glances up at where he had hoped to see Leonardo, but he's not in bed anymore. Neither is he in the attic room and so Ezio goes down to the now empty common room and inquires. One of the girls tells him Maestro da Vinci is currently taking a bath and Ezio thanks her with a small bow. He hesitates for a moment, but takes the clothes he brought for his friend to the bathing room anyway. When he enters, he sees an outfit had been prepared for Leonardo and he wonders if his excuse to check in on him falls through now. 

“I brought you some of your clothes," Ezio speaks up from the doorway, "but I see you've been given some."

“Ezio. Thank you. You can leave them here. I prefer my own.”

Ezio thinks Leonardo still doesn't sound like himself. If anything, he sounds tired and his sentences are short and more uneloquent than he's used to. The words have no joyful ring to them. Ezio's chest constricts a bit and despite the invasion of privacy, he steps inside and closes the bathroom door behind himself. 

Leonardo has bruises on his skin and he can’t help but stare at the blotches of discolouration as if they are a mockery of painting. His thoughts of possibly invading Leonardo's privacy are overshadowed by guilt and anger.

“Leonardo, I … who exactly is responsible for this?” He asks because he wants them dead. He asks because he would gladly kill half of Italy if Leonardo were to request it. But Leonardo only shakes his head.

“It’s my fault. I was careless.”

“Carelessness does not get you arrested for rape.” A desperate sigh leaves Ezio's lips. This is one of the things he doesn't like about his friend. It’s very much Leonardo’s personality to shift blame to himself, even when he least deserves it. At times like these, Ezio hates the artist's pacifistic nature because in his place he wouldn't be so merciful and forgiving. Leonardo forgives everyone, except himself. A rueful smile settles on the artist's lips as he answers: 

“It does if your pretty assistant hopes to get some coin from it. I should not have fallen for his tricks.”

“The words of one boy are nothing against his maestro’s, surely?”

“Maybe. But they ring truer if said maestro has already been accused of sodomy once.”

“Falsely.”

“No. The charges were dropped thanks to a patron of mine. But the accusation was true.” 

There’s a silence between them then as Ezio thinks about what to say.

“Do you think less of me?” Leonardo asks quietly, as if he's afraid and regrets telling him. Ezio momentarily thinks he should know him better than that, should know better than to be afraid of his reaction. Although he is surprised to learn the truth, it does not change his opinion of Leonardo. It’s merely a new piece of information about the man he calls best friend. A friend he cannot think of being without.

“Nothing you do can make me think less of you, my friend.”

But his opinion of Leonardo has _changed_ , at least a little. He's always trusted him but as of now their relationship seems more balanced. He feels pride that Leonardo shares his secrets with him as Ezio himself has done countless times before. He feels trusted and valued. He feels as though his understanding of the artist has deepened a fraction, and maybe he now sees the artist as someone who is no longer so out of reach.

Ezio, who has spent his youth chasing after girls, has wondered at brief yet various moments how it would feel to kiss Leonardo. He has always accepted different sexualities like the existence of different brands of wine; in part because living in Florence made for an easy discovery of those brands. Though the thought of one loving a man like he does a woman is not foreign to him, Ezio's interest in men has never gone further than simple curiosity as to how different it would be from sleeping with a woman. He has never dwelled on it much, until Leonardo had become a constant in his life. Yet he has repeatedly shrugged off the thought because Leonardo is his _friend_ and Leonardo deserves so much more.

“Although be careful, Leonardo. We almost lost you today.” _I almost lost you_ , Ezio thinks. He often forgets that Leonardo is no Assassin, no matter how deeply he’s submerged in their secrets. He does not live by their creed, does not live in the shadows but in the light, and has no way of fighting off those who truly oppose him. Ezio has always thought he would be able to protect him and to a certain extent that is true. As long as they keep their acquaintance under the cover of darkness and away from too many prying eyes, he keeps Leonardo somewhat safe from the Templars, but anything outside of that Ezio is powerless against. He has no control over the rest of the world and when it comes to Leonardo, he hates that thought.

“Don’t worry. It was a weak moment, it won’t happen again. All my assistants will be gone anyway.” He almost laughs, but it’s not a laugh that speaks of jokes; it’s a poor attempt.

“It’s not weak to fall in love.”

“It wasn’t exactly that,” Leonardo interrupts with a mumble, and Ezio does laugh now, smirking at the blush that blossoms on Leonardo's face.

“Fine, but even you are human, Leonardo. As long as you let yourself be seduced by people I can trust – or kill afterwards.”

Under the easy trust between them and their joined laughter, Leonardo seem to find the bits and pieces to his former self again and Ezio is proud to be the cause of his smile.

“Someday, Leonardo, you’ll find someone who deserves you.”

With that, Ezio leaves his brilliant artist to finish his bath.

 


	3. In which Leonardo talks of sexuality

Ezio decides to spend a few days with Leonardo. He has never done that before, has always been too busy avenging his family, intercepting messages, fulfilling contracts for _Il Magnifico_ or the Order. His work as an Assassin has always come first and for the first time in far too long, Ezio feels it is time to give something else - _someone_ else- priority. Ezio does not want to take Leonardo for granted. He wants simply to spend some time by his side as he has done for him countless times.

Leonardo's reputation can do with laying low for a while and Ezio supposes keeping out of sight will do him good too. Guards will be less likely to be on the lookout and rumours of a demon in white roaming Venice will die down. And Ezio worries for his friend. He does not pretend he's been as affected by what happened to Leonardo, but Ezio still feels protective. He feels fear for what could have happened, _what if_ 's swarming his mind more than occasionally. Punishing the ones responsible in one way or another did relieve some of his worries. He had gotten the name of the assistant from a reluctant Leonardo after promising he wouldn’t kill the boy. He did almost make him faint, Ezio thinks rather proudly. 

On the other hand, he worries he's made it even more painstakingly obvious Leonardo and the Assassins share a connection. When he told Leonardo this, he was laughed at. 'Do you really think it's not already obvious,' Leonardo had said, proving once again how readily he puts his life on the line for him. Ezio wonders not for the first time what he has done to deserve a man like Leonardo. 

Four days have gone by at _La Rosa della Virtù_ and Leonardo has been coping like he copes with the world around him: by sketching and making notes in the notebooks Ezio brought him. Working continuously seems to have calmed down Leonardo's mind a little and Ezio noticed the twitching in his fingers has ceased along with it. He wonders again how many ideas Leonardo has swimming around in his head, if it's ever quiet in that brilliant mind. 

Leonardo is sketching in the courtyard when Ezio comes back, oblivious to his surroundings. It makes Ezio shake his head a little, leaning against the doorframe. He’s always enjoyed watching Leonardo work – no matter what he is doing. He bites his lower lip sometimes or scrunches his nose when he doesn’t like the results on his paper or canvas. He tilts his head a few degrees and a frown forms on his brow when he concentrates. Leonardo always works with passion. Ezio has a hate/love relationship with the way he becomes entranced with his work and forgets everything around him. It makes him look otherworldly in a way, but it is also dangerous. The Assassin assumes it has just become second nature to be alert at all times. Maybe that’s part of why he likes watching Leonardo when he works; so that he can make sure Leonardo will be alright.

Eventually, when the sun begins to set and they’d best go inside before customers start flooding _La Rosa_ , he walks over to Leonardo and taps him on the shoulder. The artist almost jumps from the chair and closes his notebook quickly, his eyes widening and Ezio has the distinct impression he’s barely managing to suppress a blush.

“Ezio! H-how long have you been here?”

“Why? Drawing dirty things?”

Now Leonardo does blush bright red and it makes Ezio laugh. He borrows a trick from thieves and leaves through the pages of Leonardo’s sketches before the artist can even complain. Ezio doesn’t really expect to find anything, isn’t even really looking at the pages. But glancing is enough because nearly every page is filled with sketches of him.

At first, Ezio feels flattered to the point his heart skip a beat and he smiles at the artist nervously fiddling with his own fingers and avoiding Ezio’s eyes completely. Then, Ezio's down-to-earth ever-present worry takes the upper hand.

“You have to burn these. If anyone finds them-”

“Relax,” Leonardo interrupts before he can go on ranting about the dangers of a simple sketch, “I always do. I have sketched you a dozen times.”

Now, Ezio does open the sketchbook and properly looks inside. It kind of feels like invading Leonardo’s privacy, but the artist would say so if he really minded. Besides, he's the subject of what pages Leonardo has already filled. Ezio with a hood, without a hood. As a young man when they first met, dressed in simple nobleman’s clothes, and a slightly older version as he is now, with Assassin robes and a light stubble on his chin.  There’s one with his hair untied. There’s a few when he’s frozen and yet moving through mid-air. There are a few sketches of various swords and daggers he’s owned, and a detailed one of the hidden blade strapped to his left wrist. It’s so detailed he can see calluses on his fingers.

Then, there is one where Ezio holds a courtesan in his arms, his head dipped to kiss the plumpness of her breasts. Her hand is tangled in his hair and she’s smiling in clear enjoyment.

Next to that, Ezio sees himself lying down, the same courtesan on top of him with her hands poised on his chest. Ezio’s own face shows unadulterated pleasure and he wonders if he really looks like that when he sleeps with women. He feels some heat rising to settle on his cheeks and looks back at Leonardo. There is no doubt in his mind these sketches stem only from Leonardo’s imagination, as Ezio has never slept with this girl, if she is even real. It is the detail in the imaginative scenes that gets to him, the expression on his face, the delicate blush on her body. The way his toes are curled and his fingers clutching at her hips. He can almost feel her body against his, the heat between her thighs.

“These are … amazing.” He clears his suddenly dry throat and licks his lips, turning the pages towards Leonardo to show what has him so speechless (and frankly a bit excited). A question burns on his lips. It’s spoken like a tease, but Ezio really wonders: “Does drawing these turn you on?”

Leonardo’s eyes grow momentarily wide from surprise but not in shame, so Ezio knows he’s not lying when he says they don’t.

“I slept with a woman once. I didn’t like it.” He shrugs. “I guess that’s why these drawings don’t get me excited either.”

“Maybe she was horrible in bed and you didn’t know,” Ezio offers with a smirk curling his lips.

“Oh, she had to have been brilliant. Just not what I wanted.”

“What _do_ you want, then?” Ezio wants to slap himself. He already knows what Leonardo wants: Leonardo wants men. But the question holds so much more than he dares ask. Only men? What kind of men? How many has he had? What does he like in bed? Does he top, or does he not care about positions? Has he had real lovers, or did he visit prostitutes? It feels far more intimate than it should have been to ask his best friend about his sexual endeavours but Ezio feels such desire to get to know him like that. He's been assuming Leonardo spends more attention to scholarly adventures than intimate ones and has not a lot of interest in pursuing the latter. 

Leonardo seems to read his thoughts to some extent, because he thinks longer than Ezio would have thought he would. Granted, Ezio thought he would laugh at him and avoid the question altogether. Instead, Leonardo answers truthfully and seriously.

“Someone who knows what they want. Confident, unashamed to feel attraction towards me. But it has to be a man. I don’t feel attracted otherwise. I want that attraction, feel it for myself and from my lovers. But it's hard to come by in a world where relationships like that are frowned upon at best.”

The more Leonardo speaks, the more Ezio feels uncomfortable. He’s still trying to decide whether it is embarrassment or misplaced jealousy. Leonardo smiles a bit apologetically, despite Ezio having asked first.

“This is making you uncomfortable. Let’s go inside. I had one of the girls pick up a bottle of Chianti, to celebrate the fact I’m still alive and I have you to thank for it.”

He hugs Ezio then, as amicably as Ezio is used to, but suddenly it feels too distant for Ezio’s tastes. He wonders if Leonardo thinks he is attractive.

Ezio sure thinks Leonardo is.


	4. In which Leonardo talks of love

“I fell in love before,” Leonardo says as they’re on their second cup of wine, “before I was arrested in Firenze.” There’s a pause and he bites his lip, to Ezio’s great delight. “I’ve never been able to talk about it before. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Tell me.” He rests his chin on his hand and holds his cup with the other. The Chianti tastes sweetly warm on his tongue and Ezio thinks that between the two of them in this small attic room, the bottle will be empty far too soon.

“There was a young man, two years younger than I was. He used to be a model at Maestro Verocchio’s studio and we got along well enough. We were almost friends; it was easy back then. When I got my own studio, he came to model for me. I had no assistants at the time and we grew a lot closer, having only each other to talk to for hours at a time. He stayed for dinner, then stayed for wine. In the end he stayed to share my bed." 

Despite wanting to hear the story of Leonardo's life before he knew him, Ezio feels the sting of jealousy at seeing the fond little smile on Leonardo's lips. He knows his friend well enough to see that the young man hadn't just shared Leonardo's bed, but had gotten his heart and soul. Leonardo pushes his now-empty cup a little towards Ezio, who takes the hint and refills it. When he lifts the cup to his lips, the smile has gone and made room for a sadness in Leonardo's eyes Ezio quite suddenly wants to kiss away. Leonardo continues:

"He wasn’t the first man I’d kissed and I’d had my own views on love and God and what was right for a while, but he was the first I shared my bed with. I fell in love too easily, was swayed by the intensity of how it felt to share something intimate. I was too absorbed by the mechanics of love and sex to realise that what we were doing was careless if not dangerous. We left next to nothing to the imagination and when someone inevitably accused him, he forgot the whispers of love we’d exchanged when he shared my bed and told them I’d taken advantage. Florence did not usually prosecute my kind, until it decided it'd had enough of the jokes of Florentine sodomites and wanted an example made. I ..." 

Leonardo bites his lip and shakes his head a little, brow furrowed and eyes cast down. His face is a mixture of grief, fear and pain. Ezio thinks maybe this wasn't a good idea, telling the story of his earlier imprisonment when he's only just recovering from recent trauma. Yet he does not interrupt, instead wanting to let Leonardo decide what he wants to tell, if he wants to continue. He reaches out across the table and touches his hand briefly, hopes it is a reminder that Leonardo is safe here, that he is respected here. That he is cared for. Leonardo's eyes reach Ezio's for a moment and he smiles appreciatively before shrugging.

"A wealthy patron and friend pulled some strings and I will never be able to thank them enough for what they’ve done. Afterwards, I avoided such relationships for the most part. Charges might be dropped, but whispers never are. My assistant must have thought me an easy target, with charges already in my past. And stupidly, I was.”

By the end of his story, Ezio has filled Leonardo’s cup for the third time and he downs it completely. Leonardo hurts still and Ezio wonders if it’s the recent trial that's been so hard on him, or if it’s the remnants of the broken heart from years ago. He cannot imagine how it must have felt to Leonardo never to let someone close. He seems to have such an easy time making friends. He remembers how easy it was for them to become as close as they are now, remembers Leonardo’s first hugs, amicable from the start. As if he wants to set a border and then stay close to it so it won’t accidentally be crossed.

“You are only human. Yes, even you, my brilliant Leonardo,” Ezio says affectionately, a smile tugging at his lips. He wonders if Leonardo would really be easy to seduce and mentally berates himself for thinking something so crude, especially after Leonardo's shared heartbreak.

But if Leonardo were his, he’d never – _never –_ hurt him like that. He’d own up to loving Leonardo because the world would be a darker place without him. If Leonardo were his –

“You remind me of him sometimes.”

“Who?”

“The boy who broke my heart.”

Despite all the pain of his earlier story, Leonardo is again smiling softly. He remembers why he fell in love. He remembers the feeling of being in love and Ezio is glad for that, at least. Glad that he can make Leonardo remember such lovely things as well.

“He was as confident and daring. Often smirking, just a little cocky. Reckless.” Leonardo’s smile grows wide, but Ezio doesn’t react to the little insults because he knows full well Leonardo doesn’t really think they’re insults at all. “He had your hair colour too, but it was shorter.”

“How did it feel to be in love with him?” Ezio asks, keen to see the dreamy look on Leonardo’s face for a little while longer. Even if he has to listen to tales of past lovers.

“Why, do you mean to tell me you’ve never been in love, Ezio?”

“I have been in love. Maybe I am in love right now. You’ll never know.” He means to say it as a joke, but it rings a little too close to the truth and the phrase never reaches its full teasing undertone. Leonardo studies his face like he most often does, all the while smirking a little.

“You are, aren’t you? Enough about my sad past already," Leonardo quickly changes the subject. "Tell me more about this woman who has conquered the great Assassin’s heart!”

“No, Leonardo. I was just joking.”

“Nonsense. I know you too well, Ezio.” Unable to kiss away the growing smirk on Leonardo’s lips, Ezio settles for teasing his friend a little.

“Not well enough, it seems,” he deadpans. “Or you would know.”

“I know her then?”

“You’re wrongfully assuming it’s a woman.” Ezio relishes the way Leonardo’s eyes widen. “Which is ridiculous seeing as we’ve been talking about men the entire time.”

“It’s … I just … You always brag about your women! Is it Antonio?”

“Antonio?! Leonardo, you wound me. I thought you knew me better.”

Leonardo takes to studying Ezio even more deeply then. As if the answer is written in his eyes, which it probably is. Ezio feels naked under the intent stare, wonders if this is how it would feel to share something intimate with Leonardo. Maybe Leonardo does not realise because he does not share Ezio's feelings at all. Or maybe he is afraid to find something in his eyes after all, afraid of the weight that might put on his shoulders. Ezio has no idea if Leonardo has any interest in him. For all this time they were talking about Leonardo and his lover, Leonardo and his tastes in men, Ezio hadn’t assumed that reminding the artist of the boy he’d fallen in love with years ago meant something. He isn't that self-important, even if sometimes he is cocky, as Leonardo says.

“You’re joking, aren’t you? I would have known somehow if you were interested in men. You never look at them like you look at a woman. I noticed that much. I can’t believe I even fell for it. It must be the wine.”

“I never said I was interested in men.”

“No, you just said so. I’m not _that_ drunk. You said you were in love with a man.”

Oh, how Ezio loves teasing him like this. It’s one of those rare times he feels smarter than Leonardo. He can’t wipe the smirk from his lips anymore, but as Leonardo starts to frown and possibly pout at him, he takes pity on him.

“One man, Leonardo. Just the one. And it so happens this man isn’t entirely out of my reach.”

“I’m sure you could woo any-” Ezio’s hand touches Leonardo’s across the table. 

“Are you out of my reach, Leonardo?” It feels like a reckless confession. But reckless is his trademark - even if his heart beats nervously in his throat.

When Leonardo fails to answer, Ezio’s smirk falls away quickly and he pulls his hand back. He’s about to conjure up some excuse or explanation, something to make the awkwardness diminish, when Leonardo finds his voice again, albeit barely.

“Really now, Ezio, you mustn't play games with me on this. Tell me truly. Are you joking?”

“Of course not.”

Leonardo suddenly leans up and over the table, curls a hand in Ezio’s shirt and pulls him closer. Ezio crashes against the table, making the remnants of the Chianti flow over the table. A cup falls on the floor. It isn’t gentle and it surprises Ezio how much passion is hidden in Leonardo’s kiss. His world spins.

“Are you sure you’re not joking?”

“Yes, Leonardo.”

Now, Ezio is the one to lean in and kiss Leonardo. Leonardo lets him. This time, he does get up and moves around the table. Leonardo’s embrace has never felt so close; no embrace has ever felt so close. And still, there is some anger hidden in between it all. If he didn’t feel it in the urgency of Leonardo’s kiss already, he hears it in the little growl the artist places against his lips.

“You laugh at me for not realising, but have apparently failed to notice that I’ve wanted you for years, idiot.”

“We can argue about who’s more idiotic later, Leonardo. Just kiss me.”

The hands on his robes pull him closer again and now that the disbelief has vanished, Leonardo’s lips grow gentler. His hands flatten against his chest before one sneaks up to caress Ezio’s neck. Ezio hums against Leonardo’s lips. The world seems to come to a halt and it feels right and calm and _yes, this is what it’s supposed to be like_ , Ezio thinks.

Love might not come easy or easily to Assassins and Artists, but sometimes it can be found in between simple kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. This is the end.  
> Except if you want some smut. Then you can click on through.


	5. In which Leonardo speaks of trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the BONUS CHAPTER that has a simple sex scene. It's still fluff because I need it to fit in with the rest of it. ^__^" 
> 
> If you don't want smut, stop now.

“We can argue about who’s more idiotic later, Leonardo. Just kiss me.”

The hands on his robes pull him closer again and now that the disbelief has vanished, Leonardo’s lips grow gentler. His hands sneak up to caress Ezio’s neck and Ezio hums against Leonardo’s lips. The world seems to come to a halt. Everything feels right and calm and _yes, this is what it’s supposed to be like_ , Ezio thinks. This is what he wants.

Leonardo is who he wants.

Ezio has questions in the back of his mind. Why him, why now, why hasn't Leonardo told him? Things about what happens now. But Leonardo's lips distract his thoughts. The kisses deepen and Ezio feels almost breathless. All he can still think about is Leonardo and how he tastes, how he feels, how he moves an inch closer to press up against him. How he breathes. How his heart beats faster and faster.

“I want to sleep with you tonight,” he manages to breathe out against Leonardo’s lips. As soon as he's said the words, Ezio thinks he shouldn't be so eager, but Leonardo nods as eagerly.

It almost feels solemn, the way Leonardo starts to undress Ezio and puts every piece of weaponry on the table carefully. As his fingers untie the hood and slip it off, Ezio starts to tug at Leonardo’s doublet until he shrugs it off. It falls on the floor unceremoniously, where it is soon joined by the rest of their clothing. Boots are kicked to the side and when they’re naked, Leonardo stares at him, biting his lip like he does when he’s concentrating. His gaze is intense, yet it is not scrutinising. Already, Ezio feels the beginnings of physical arousal and rather than feeling embarrassed, he smiles. He is not ashamed of how Leonardo makes him feel.

As soon as his gaze reaches his eyes again, Ezio pulls Leonardo flush against him, kisses him again and again. He lets his fingers trail down his spine and up his sides again, mapping out bits of skin. Leonardo flinches and chuckles as Ezio finds out where he is ticklish. When his thumb brushes Leonardo’s neck, he tilts his head back and moans a little. Ezio replaces his thumb with his lips and bites softly, careful not to leave marks. Leonardo’s fingers, where they had been resting on Ezio’s waist, now rise up to curl in Ezio’s hair. Ezio dips his head lower, kisses his way down his lover’s collarbones, flicks his tongue over a nipple. He relishes every sigh and every little gasp that leaves Leonardo’s lips.

His _lover_. Leonardo is becoming his lover. The idea alone makes the arousal more insistent.

Ezio shifts, his hips pushing against Leonardo's in search of touch, and then Leonardo’s hand untangles itself from his hair, traces a playful pattern on his hip and back to his abdomen, where it finds Ezio’s arousal. The feeling of his hand caressing him makes Ezio abandon Leonardo’s chest in favour of kissing him deeply once more. He cradles Leonardo's face in his hands and hopes to show him how grateful he is for this moment because everything Leonardo does is the embodiment of his affection, Ezio thinks. It feels like that.

Leonardo’s hands are gentle with just enough urgency to make Ezio moan his name in quiet desperation.

Ezio wants to return the favour, but he thinks his caresses will fall into nothingness compared with Leonardo’s gentle brilliance. Ezio has never touched another man this way, and he fears he won’t be able to give Leonardo the pleasure he wants to see. Ezio, who has always been confident in his sexual prowess, feels suddenly self-conscious as he has never felt before. This is new.

This is Leonardo.

And because it is Leonardo, he reads Ezio like a book.

“What’s wrong?” His fingers on Ezio’s arousal have slowed a little, less intent on making him reach an orgasm and more on simply _touching_ and connecting. Ezio lets his head fall against Leonardo’s shoulder, sighing.

“Nothing. I don’t want you to think I’m bad at this.” Leonardo laughs a little, but he nods and buries his free hand in Ezio’s hair again. He pulls him up a little, kisses him and whispers against his lips.

“I’ll show you what I like.”

He takes Ezio’s hand and brings it between their bodies. With his hand still guiding Ezio’s, he shows him how hard to touch, how fast to move. He circles the head of his erection with Ezio’s fingers and his hips twitch a bit. Ezio wonders when Leonardo got so hard without even a single touch, but he loves the feeling of him in his hand. Leonardo lets go and resumes his own strokes on Ezio’s erection, sure and confident. It takes all of Ezio’s concentration to keep moving as Leonardo’s skilled fingers twitch with every moan and gasp. All Ezio hears is heavy breathing and whispers of his name, gasps of Leonardo’s.

When Ezio thinks he’s about to reach his limits, Leonardo stops and circles his fingers around his erection, too tightly to be pleasurable. He keeps them there as he sinks down on his knees, pressing kisses to Ezio’s thighs. His breath feels so hot against his skin and just _seeing_ him crouched in front of him makes Ezio want to moan in pleasure. Leonardo teases him with minuscule touches and kisses on places he couldn’t have cared less about until he’s sure Ezio won’t come crumbling this soon.

Fingers cup his testicles, swollen lips press a sloppy hot kiss to the head of his erection and _suck._ Ezio thinks he’ll go crazy. Leonardo’s mouth feels so hot, so delicious. He thinks of kissing that mouth, of getting drunk on the taste of him. He thinks of how sinful it is to see Leonardo bob his head between his legs – so agonisingly slowly – but how _right_ it feels to share this with him.

After Ezio comes crashing into his orgasm, crumbling underneath Leonardo’s fingers and lips and tongue, he thinks of how soft Leonardo’s hair feels between his fingers. He thinks of how beautiful Leonardo is. Of how a man so brilliant, so different from him, could want him as badly as he wants him.

He thinks of how nicely he moans his name when they slide down on the floor of the attic room and Ezio - tired but unrelenting - crawls between Leonardo's legs and takes his hot-and-heavy erection between his lips, the motions unpracticed and careful but Leonardo's fingers tug desperately at his hair anyway and Ezio wraps an arm around his hips to keep them from thrusting up. He hears a thud and a groan - Leonardo's head meeting the floor a bit too harshly - before he brings Leonardo to his own dizzying orgasm.

Ezio falls down next to his lover, unceremoniously on the wooden floor of his attic room in a Venetian brothel. But he loves the way Leonardo whispers his name as he pulls him close and plants a kiss on his hair. Leonardo slumps against Ezio’s shoulder, mumbling satisfaction in the crook of his neck.

He asks Leonardo one question: "Why now, with me?" Why the exception, the risk?

"Because I trust you."

Ezio thinks his heart is completely at Leonardo’s mercy now, but that’s okay because Leonardo’s is a safe and limitless mercy. Leonardo is also _his_. He is as sure of that as he is sure the sun will rise.


End file.
